


Snug

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XIII Series, Final Fantasy XIII-2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8399764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Yuj is better suited to their boutique than Noel.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Unlike most of his coworkers, Yuj doesn’t complain when he gets a shift alone. He isn’t just here for the paycheck—he genuinely _likes_ clothes, and he tends to the new fashions displayed in the boutique like his own personal herd of sheep, molded into the best arrangements by his impeccable taste. He spends the slow part of the morning redressing the mannequins in the window, until a friend comes in and asks for his help.

He shows Maqui to the hoodies at the back, even though Maqui suggests something a little more suave, something more artful. Yuj appreciates the thought but insists that Maqui doesn’t have to live up to Yuj’s high standards—it’s not like any of the others do. Gadot’s hair alone is an affront to Yuj’s eyes. And Maqui will just leave with something giant and shapeless anyway, like he always does. Sure enough, he’s fiddling with the cords of a sweater twice his size when the little bell above the door announces a new customer, and Yuj flitters off, figuring Maqui will understand.

The man who steps through the door isn’t another friend, not exactly. It’s a coworker with no shift today, which throws Yuj for a loop—he’s heard Noel groan loudly before over Yuj’s tendency to come in on his day off. But Yuj has a wardrobe bigger than their stock room, and their boutique holds a treat for the eyes that even his beloved clothes can’t compete with. He’s forced Noel to attend to him one too many times.

It’s never worked the other way around, but Yuj still comes up like he would to any other customer, smiling invitingly and offering, “Can I help you with anything today?”

Noel sticks out his tongue like Yuj is teasing him, his blue eyes lighting up with his broad smile. He’s distractingly handsome on the worst days, devastatingly beautiful on the best. This is one of the latter—he hasn’t just rushed in for an early shift, but waited until mid-afternoon and groomed himself properly. His often-frantic hair’s combed neatly into place, his clothes relatively wrinkle-free, and he smells of rich cologne that Yuj instantly wants to lick off his skin. Most days, Noel smells like sweat from a work out, which is just as tempting, but Yuj always falls for a twist of higher class.

Yuj is trying to think of something else to say so he won’t have to slink back to the counter, doomed only to ogle from afar, when Noel shrugs his shoulders and admits, “Well, I guess I could use another eye. I need some clothes that are _in_ right now, y’know? I want to impress someone.”

Yuj’s heart instantly sinks. But he keeps the pleasant smile on his face and quips, more scathing than he means to, “You could start by wearing pants that don’t mistake your knees for your crotch.”

Noel, almost as good-natured and dense as Snow, snorts, “Would you cut me some slack on that already? I’ve told you a hundred times—everybody’s wearing baggy pants now.”

Nobody Yuj would take home. Except this one man in front of him. Yuj just shakes his head and waves Noel over to the wall, where the latest designer shirts have come in. Their front and back are relatively plain for their brand, but the sides are cut out in favour of crisscrossing buckles—the sort of complicated fashion statement one wants to make when they’re out with models. Just Yuj’s cup of tea. And more importantly, he’d like to see the peak of skin along Noel’s sides, the rest stretched tight across his taut abs and chiseled stomach. The black shirt he’s wearing now isn’t bad: it shows off Noel’s impressive build well. But Yuj knows he could do better, and he hopes he gets to play quite a few rounds of dress-up with his gorgeous crush before the real person Noel wants to impress inserts themselves back into his life.

Noel fingers the buckles just under the sleeve and muses, “How do you even get this thing on?”

“The ladies love it,” Yuj counters without answering. When he boasts that of one item or another to a man their age, it usually seals the sale.

Noel flashes a grin like he’s onto that, but he still lifts the hanger off the peg and turns for the changing room in the far corner. Yuj dutifully follows and stands outside when Noel’s disappeared behind the shutter doors, though it isn’t strictly protocol on slow days. Across the floor, Maqui waves to him and heads off without the sweater—Yuj just returns the wave. He’ll explain later, and he thinks Maqui already understands. Yuj will put the clothes Maqui liked on hold after this, just in case.

Maqui’s only just left, leaving the boutique empty of outsiders, when Noel calls, “Hey, Yuj? Can you give me a hand with this?”

Yuj answers, “Yes,” without a second’s pause.

More than half his favourite fantasies consist of fucking Noel in a changing room. Particularly these ones. Usually on shift. He steps right through the doors and quickly secures the latch afterwards, then turns properly to Noel.

Noel’s already got his shirt off, the new one stretched around his thick forearms, his chest completely bare for Yuj’s hungry eyes to roam. Yuj doesn’t even try making eye contact: he needs a good look first. Noel won’t mind—he’s cocky and knows he’s hot. Sure enough, when Yuj finally tears his eyes away from Noel’s six-pack, Noel’s grinning. He jokes, “Got your fill?”

Yuj hopes he’s not blushing too hard and answers via a mock-scowl. Noel chuckles and lifts his arms to pull the shirt on, having to squirm it down bit-by-bit after, because Yuj deliberately grabbed one a size too small. Yuj reaches to help, tugging carefully at the hem, and relishing each brush of his fingers against Noel’s skin. The little changing room feels exceptionally small, strangely hot, stuffy, or maybe it’s just Noel’s cologne making him dizzy. 

He starts fiddling with the buckles, trying to get them properly in place, but stops when Noel asks, “Do I really have to go that far?”

Yuj glances up and blinks. “What?”

“I put the fancy shirt on, and I double-checked to make sure you seemed interested when you saw me half-naked—do I really have to deal with all those fussy details to impress you?”

Yuj, for once, is at a loss for words. When he doesn’t say anything, Noel does what Noel does best—rushes in with action. He grabs at Yuj’s long hair, fists his fingers in it hard enough to sting, but that only shocks Yuj back to life so he can open properly by the time Noel’s slamming into him. Noel wrenches him back, forcing him wider, and rams a slick tongue inside his mouth. Yuj moans into it and sucks, his own hands flying out to clutch Noel’s biceps, and then Noel’s twisting Yuj around and slamming him back against the wall, holding him up, pinning him there—one of Noel’s knees pushes between Yuj’s thighs, hiking him farther up the wall—Yuj wonders if _this is really happening_.

When Noel finally releases Yuj’s mouth, Yuj is left panting for air, and Noel asks, “Well? Did I impress you?”

Yuj’s head is still swimming. But he manages to snap, “You’re one of the most fashion-challenged people I know, so you really have no business working here.”

Noel doesn’t miss a beat, just pushes, “And?”

“And you’re damn hot—get back here.” Two fists in the new shirt yank Noel forward again, and they tumble back into a slew of kisses and the sort of harried foreplay that could put even Yuj’s daydreams to shame.


End file.
